[TENSE MUSIC]
♪
[TIRES SCREECHING]
♪
No, no!
You don't have to do this.
- No!
- [g*nshots]
♪
Real estate agent was giving
a tour a little after : a.m.
Spotted our victim when she went to show
her client the loading dock.
: a.m.'s a little early
for a tour, isn't it?
Client stepped straight off a red-eye
from SFO to see the place.
Whole block just got reclassified
as a Federal Opportunity Zone.
Hence our ticket to the dance.
- So what are we looking at?
- Nothing good.
Appears our victim
was first run over with a car,
then sh*t twice in the back of the dome.
Damn, guy wanted him dead pretty bad.
All right, you ID the body?
No, nothing in his pockets,
and facial rec is out of the question,
given the headshots.
All right, I'll get M.E.
to run prints and swab for DNA.
Then we'll have ERT
catalogue the tire tracks
after they bag up the shell casings.
Did your team canvass for cameras yet?
Still looking,
but so far coming up empty.
This block hasn't had a working
factory in over years.
Pretty good place to commit a m*rder.
Hey, OA, I got a stamp here.
Looks like the initials are "IR."
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
♪
All right, folks, so today's mystery
is a dead John Doe outside an
abandoned factory in Red Hook,
and since nobody accidentally
gets sh*t twice in the head,
let's find ourselves a sh**t,
shall we?
Where are we with IDing the body?
Well, biometrics are a no-go.
DNA and fingerprints
both come back empty.
Mm, which means
our guy's never arrested.
Or paid to learn he's / French.
And NYPD's right.
The whole block is a dead zone
as far as cameras go.
What about the tire tracks?
Late model high-end SUV.
It doesn't tell us much.
All right, well, that leaves us
with the hand stamp that Maggie found.
It's gotta be from a bar, right?
Yeah, I found five places
in the tristate area
with the initials IR,
but one still uses hand stamps
according to the calls I've made,
a place called Infrared
down on Canal Street.
All right, let's have
Tiffany and Scola check it out.
Yeah.
Yeah, that's one of ours.
The crown with the IR
inside it is Tuesday.
So last night then?
I guess so. What's this about?
A m*rder.
We're trying to ID
the victim of a homicide.
He was here last night at your bar.
That thing recording?
Yeah, the camera dumps
to a laptop in the back.
I'll grab it.
Right there.
Gray hoodie, blue jacket.
That's our guy.
Mm-hmm, looks like he gets
into an argument
with his barstool neighbor.
Then they both leave together
a little after : .
Five hours later,
gray hoodie winds up dead.
I mean, there's a good chance
we could be looking
at victim and k*ller here, Tiff.
Yeah, I mean, at the very least,
we just ID'd John Doe
'cause he paid with his credit
card at exactly : .
♪
Excuse me.
We're gonna need access
to last night's receipts.
All right, so thanks
to Tiffany and Scola
and our good friends at Visa,
our John Doe now has a name.
Meet Cole Dixon, .
Let's figure out who this guy
was and why he was k*lled, huh?
Okay, looks like
Cole lived in Bay Ridge.
He's got a wife, ten-year-old son.
- Mm-hmm. Priors?
- None.
How about employment?
Whatever it is, it's off the books.
I'm seeing regular cash
deposits in the bank account.
Uh-huh, which means
the IRS like this guy
about as much as Jimmy Two-sh*ts did.
All right, what about the other guy
that left the bar with Cole?
It's too dark in the bar for facial rec,
and the hat's a problem.
I'm trying to brighten it up,
but lose resolution.
All right, keep working on it.
I'll take as good as you can get.
All right, in the meantime,
let's have Maggie and OA
pay a visit to Cole's widow.
Maybe she can tell us
why he was m*rder*d.
Yes.
I don't understand.
You're saying this is my husband?
I mean, Cole was wearing
a gray hoodie yesterday, but...
Have you heard from your
husband in the past eight hours?
No, I was getting Lucas over to school.
Cole should have been home by now.
Oh, my God, it's true, isn't it?
Why would someone do this to him?
I know this is really hard to digest.
I'm sorry.
[SOMBER MUSIC]
Did Cole have any enemies?
Enemies? No. He was an Uber driver.
There's no record of that.
He hasn't filed a W- in a few years.
What are you talking about?
He had a shift last night.
He started driving at : .
No, last night at : ,
he was at this bar
called Infrared in Manhattan
with that guy.
Do you know him?
Ma'am, our best chance
of finding whoever k*lled Cole
is for you to tell us
everything that you know.
- Okay, the man in this video...
- I don't know him.
♪
I don't know how to say this,
but sometimes, I worry
that Cole had secrets.
Okay. What kind of secrets?
I think...
I think he was hiding money
in the garage.
I never told him I found it,
but Cole kept this safe
hidden under a pile of old
moving blankets out there.
It would be really helpful if
we could take a look at that.
I don't know the combination,
but I can show you where it's at.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
♪
Got it.
Nice safe.
Especially for an Uber driver.
What are we looking at?
I mean, we got a lot of cash,
maybe $ , , $ , .
Hey, Ian, a couple burner phones.
I'll take those. Thank you.
It looks like...
and some sort of ledger.
All right, so he's running
some kind of business.
See if you can figure out what kind.
I mean, it's just a bunch of
incoming and outgoing payments.
- dr*gs, contraband, numbers?
- [PHONE CHIMES]
Oh, hey, guys, Cole just got a text.
"Are you ghosting me?
Thought you had info on a big score."
Okay, so whoever that is is
obviously doing business with him.
Can you track it?
Let's see.
Not fully, the number that
that came from is unregistered,
and the GPS is off,
but the text just pinged off
a tower in Long Island City.
♪
What are you thinking?
I'm un-ghosting our person of interest.
All right, "Let's meet. Gantry Plaza"?
Yeah.
Okay, "One hour."
Okay.
_
Okay, be careful.
I'll have Tiffany
and Scola meet you there.
All right.
♪
Okay, guys, we got incoming.
Got a middle-aged woman.
She seems like she means business.
♪
Looks like she's packing a
p*stol under that jacket too.
Okay, I got her texting someone now.
- _
- Yep, that's Cole's associate.
Let's move in cautiously
and watch the crossfire
as we approach in case
that p*stol comes out to play.
♪
All agents stand down.
Come again?
- We're holding.
- What's going on?
I know her. It's Gwen.
She's FBI.
♪
All right, folks, listen up.
This is Gwen Carter
from the BQ drug squad,
longtime friend of Maggie Bell.
Evidently got her
into Quantico ten years ago.
She is also Cole Dixon's handling agent.
So Cole Dixon was an FBI source?
Not exactly, he was more like
a professional informant,
and a damn good one too.
He helped me take down dozens
of dirtbags in the last ten years.
And that cash
we found in Cole's lockbox,
turns out it was from us.
Now, obviously,
given Gwen's intimate knowledge
of our victim, she will be joining
the investigation moving forward.
Okay, do we think that Cole
d*ed because he got made?
Possibly, but right now,
our bigger concern
is what he was investigating
when he was k*lled.
Yeah, last week, Cole said that
he'd stumbled onto a major score,
one that could potentially cost
hundreds of lives.
Okay, do we know what it was?
No, but Cole always held
his fire as long as he could
to avoid warrant issues,
but in Narco, particularly
with modern fentanyl...
Hundreds of lives means a hot batch.
Exactly, so we need
to find out whose crosshairs
Cole landed in before a lethal
dose of poison hits the street.
Where are we at reconstructing
Cole's last few days?
Not far... his wife thought
that Cole was an Uber driver.
But we do know
that Cole got into an argument
with another patron at the Infrared bar
before leaving together.
Ian, can you throw up that footage?
Yeah, this is as bright
as I could get it.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
Okay, yeah, that's Daryl Watkins,
AKA Little Daryl.
He runs a dice game in Brooklyn.
He's one of Cole's sub-sources.
And you think this Daryl
could have k*lled your informant,
turned on his buddy for a bigger payday?
Well, he's a criminal with a g*n.
- It's a good place to start.
- Yeah.
♪
So, Gwen, I gotta ask,
what was Maggie like back in Indiana?
- Cocky.
- Confident.
And reminded me
a little too much of myself.
But I knew from the start
she had what it takes.
There was no fear when she
stepped onto that task force.
Well, I couldn't have asked for a
better mentor to show me the ropes.
Oh, don't get sappy.
And "mentor" makes me sound old.
Mm.
Let's pull over here.
♪
Yep, I got Daryl in a green hat
rolling dice with three others.
We approaching on foot?
No, they'll see us coming a mile away.
- Let's pull up hot in the Tahoe.
- Got it.
[PEOPLE SHOUTING]
- Daryl!
- FBI!
[TENSE MUSIC]
♪
- Hey!
- Hey, you okay?
Yeah, good. It's a cramp, go!
♪
- Where you going, Daryl?
- What the hell, man?
We just have a few questions
that you need to answer.
Look, you talk to us here,
or you're gonna talk to us
back at Fed with cuffs on.
It's up to you.
Man, we was just playing Yahtzee.
Be smart, Daryl.
Don't dig a deeper hole here by lying.
Cole Dixon was m*rder*d last night,
and you were the last person
seen with him.
What? Cole's dead?
sh*t twice in the head. Did you do it?
- Hell no!
- No?
We have you on video talking
to him at Infrared last night.
The conversation looked pretty heated.
Yeah, but we...
Where were you between midnight,
and : a.m. this morning?
Chauncey's Poker Room.
Like people saw me there.
And I split off from Cole
two blocks after the bar.
He went to some other joint in Red Hook.
So what were you fighting
about at the first place?
Okay, you tell us, or I'm gonna book you
for this illegal Yahtzee game
you were playing.
Money, all right?
Cole wanted an intro to the
scientist I knew from the joint.
Said it'd mean a big stack
of dough if I did,
so I hooked him up,
and then Cole paid me less
than what I thought
the introduction was worth.
This scientist got a name?
Walt Taylor.
♪
All right, folks,
orange jumpsuit and bad hairline aside,
what do we know about Walt Taylor?
Is he actually a scientist?
A former corporate chemist, actually.
He did six years for making
a highly potent crystal meth.
Guy's apparently some kind
of chemical wizard.
So more than capable
of cooking up some fentanyl.
And the exact type of supplier that
Cole helped Gwen take down before.
So where do we find him now?
It looks like he's got
a house in Queens,
and historical GPS on one
of Cole's burner phones
puts him in Walt Taylor's
neighborhood two nights ago.
All right, take Gwen and SWAT now.
- Yes, ma'am.
- Yep.
- Where's Gwen?
- I don't know.
[COUGHING]
Hey.
Lobster roll kicked my ass last night.
Look, if you're not feeling well,
you can head home, and we've got this.
Yeah, that's not happening.
Oh, I thought playing injured
hurts the team.
If I was injured, I'd be more than happy
to let you throw my own maxims
in my face, Maggie.
You know, whatever Cole was working on,
he was working on for me,
so I'm not standing down.
Okay, then let's go.
We're hitting Walt Taylor's house now.
♪
- FBI, show us your hands!
- Put 'em up!
Hey!
That's Walt.
Two to the chest.
And these look like the shell casings.
Blood's still fresh.
He's probably only been dead
half an hour.
And these look like the same
caliber that k*lled Cole Dixon.
♪
Guys, I got Semtex,
det cords, and timers.
We have a dead informant,
dead scientist.
What the hell is going on here?
I don't know what's going on,
but we're dealing with a b*mb.
♪
- What's our status?
- We've got NYPD canvassing.
It's not a high-tech camera street,
so we're hoping we find a witness soon.
Well, the b*mb is in the wind.
ERT's getting the shell
casings over to Ballistics.
I catalogued Walt's detritus
for the JOC.
And Ian is working with TEDAC
to reverse engineer
some of these device specs.
b*mb doesn't matter if we
can't figure out who has it.
Has Cole ever brought you
a b*mb case before?
No, this is uncharted territory.
Truth is, looks like Cole
was going rogue on this one,
somehow inserting himself
into the action.
Hey, got a lady on the street
who says she saw something.
Look, the guy was a weirdo, all right?
Used bedsheets for curtains,
visitors strange hours of the night.
But it's still tragic.
And Mrs. Wax, you said
that you did hear the g*nshots?
Yes, I was at the sink washing dishes,
made it to the front window just in time
to see two men rushing out of the house.
One of them had this big duffel bag,
like they robbed him.
Okay, do you remember
anything else about these two men?
Height or clothes
they were wearing, skin color?
Both their clothes were black.
Don't remember the brand, I'm sorry.
And they were average height,
a little less than foot I think.
And I'm pretty sure they were Asian.
All right, folks, listen up.
In case you didn't get the memo,
that hot batch of fentanyl
we all thought we were chasing
now appears to be a b*mb,
which is much less easily dispersed,
but makes a much scarier boom.
Ian, where are we at with TEDAC?
Preliminary analysis is consistent
with our witness' claim that the
two sh**t left with a duffel bag.
TEDAC things we're looking
at a suitcase b*mb,
roughly pounds.
Which could level an entire building.
Elise, you got those ballistics?
Yeah, report confirms
there's a % chance
Walt Taylor and Cole Dixon
were k*lled with the same g*n.
Well, that confirms
the murders are connected.
Right, but other than Martha's account
that both the K*llers were Asian,
we have no idea who they are.
Boss, I think
we might have found something.
I've been digging
into Walt Taylor's finances.
Looks like he took
a dark web crypto transfer
of K last week,
more than tripled his total holdings.
That is a big chunk of change.
Could be prepayment for the b*mb.
Can we trace the transfer source?
Only to Asia. Crypto makes it tricky.
Wait.
The same originating IP address
pops up as flagged
in a current DEA case.
All right, well,
let's get whoever's handling
that DEA case over here now.
Right.
Look, the account is part
of a two-year money laundering
case I've been working,
so don't take this the wrong way,
but I'm not exactly eager
to let a bunch of details fly.
Agent Lee, the truth is,
we're chasing a double homicide here,
and whoever is operating
that account most likely
is in possession of a b*mb.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
♪
East- .
The Chinese gangsters?
They're growing fast,
getting more and more powerful
every week,
and best I can tell,
the account's point man
is a guy named Rex Yu.
He's a dangerous dude.
Be careful when you make your move.
All right, people,
so we have a new suspect,
or at least an organization of interest,
because according to the DEA,
the influx of cash
in Walt Taylor's account
came from the Chinese gangsters East- .
So would somebody please tell me
how a b*mb fits their profile?
It doesn't, at least not
if the past is any prologue.
East- is known
for running dr*gs and women
across the Pacific,
not for blowing things up.
There's no apparent ties
to any t*rror1st organizations.
Right, and nevertheless,
East- paid Walt Taylor
for something made out of Semtex.
What about Rex Yu?
The DEA agent said
he controls the money.
According to the file DEA sent over,
it looks like Rex isn't afraid
to get his hands dirty either.
It says Rex and a junior lieutenant,
guy named Ethan Chen, are suspected
of at least a half dozen
murders in the last few years.
So how well do Ethan and Rex match up
with Mrs. Wax's description?
Pretty well, actually.
They're both a couple inches
shorter than foot,
like she described.
They're obviously both Asian,
and the DEA file says
Rex is a regular at the
Infrared bar on Canal Street.
Which connects them to Cole Dixon.
Where do we find Rex now?
He operates out of an old
auto shop in Red Hook.
Bring him in.
OA, what do you see?
I got movement inside,
two male suspects.
- One of 'em Rex Yu?
- Affirmative.
The other one looks early s,
could be his partner,
Ethan Chen.
- Ready?
- Let's do it.
Okay, us three are gonna take the front.
Scola and Tiff, you guys cover
us from across the street.
We'll go on my mark.
[TENSE MUSIC]
♪
- Rex Yu, FBI!
- Stop!
- Flank wide!
- He's running.
Rex!
[GRUNTING]
[GROANS]
Ethan Chen, you're under arrest.
[g*nshots]
Gwen, where are you?
Need you to box him in.
I'm on my way. Hold ten seconds.
[g*nshots]
He's getting away with the b*mb.
- Maggie, we have to move.
- No, we gotta wait for her.
She's not here. Let's go.
♪
OA! We got an agent down.
[TIRES SQUEALING]
- Are you okay?
- It didn't go through.
It didn't go through.
We need air support.
We have a black Mercedes
headed east with the b*mb.
Is he okay?
Where were you? What happened?
He's got a b*mb, guys. Let's go.
Come on.
So is this the part
where you do good cop, bad cop?
No, it's more like good news, bad news.
I'm gonna start with the bad news.
That g*n we pulled
off of you at the auto shop,
ballistics already tied it to two
murders in the last hours,
Walt Taylor and Cole Dixon.
Never heard of them.
Well, the science is gonna say
that you sh*t them either way,
which means you've got a couple of
m*rder convictions
in your near future.
Unless you stop fiddling
with those handcuffs
and listen when I tell you
the good news.
Okay, I'm listening.
I'm gonna be honest with you, Ethan.
I don't think you planned
those two murders.
And I don't think you planned
what's coming next.
So you have one sh*t right now
to talk your way out of life
in prison or worse.
Where is Rex Yu,
and why does he want a b*mb?
Something funny?
Yeah, real funny.
I was an -year-old orphan
in an abandoned gas station
when Rex found me.
The guy took me in, sent me to school,
gave me money, a life.
[TENSE MUSIC]
Ain't no way in hell
I'm selling him out.
Now get me a lawyer.
Wrong choice, kid.
♪
So what do you think?
I think we're trying
to draw water from a stone.
Then we had better hope like hell
that Maggie and OA find something
at Rex Yu's auto shop.
Yeah.
Whole bunch of dr*gs,
nothing that explains why
these guys would have a b*mb.
♪
Close call today.
Yeah. What the hell, Maggie?
You girl, Gwen, she said
she was gonna be there,
and she wasn't.
I don't really know what to tell you.
♪
Hey, come here.
Blueprints?
There's no address.
It looks like an eight-story building.
Yeah, we've got three X's on
load-bearing pillars in the basement.
That is the building
that Rex wants to take down.
- Hey, any sign of Rex?
- Hey. Uh, not yet.
We put a BOLO out for him and his car.
In the meantime,
we're trying to find the building
that matches the prints you found.
How's that going?
Well, the good news is,
we know it's an eight-story building.
The bad news is,
there are literally thousands
of eight-story buildings in New York,
so we need to figure out a way
to speed up this process.
Why don't we take another run
at Ethan Chen?
I'm guessing the U.S.
attorney's gonna give us
the latitude to make a deal.
If we sweeten the incentive,
maybe he'll tell us where Rex is.
No, the kid's loyal.
He's not gonna roll on his mentor.
Okay, then how do we find where Rex is?
[PHONE BUZZES]
Okay, NYPD just found his Mercedes,
so let's start there.
Where is it?
The Brooklyn side of the Pulaski Bridge.
You wanna check it out?
Yeah. I'll grab our jackets.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
♪
This is it, right, your BOLO?
I've got broken window glass
in this empty parking space.
Rex ditched his car, stole a new one.
Let's have the JOC
start pulling traffic cams,
see if we can figure out
what vehicle is missing.
- In the meantime...
- Jubal.
What are you thinking?
Access his GPS. We got a fob.
Exigent circumstances.
Looks like house,
auto shop, house, house,
and six separate trips
camped out in front
of Haden in the last two weeks.
th and Haden?
That's nowhere near Rex lives.
That's not even East- 's territory,
so what the hell is he doing out there?
Either he has a new girlfriend, or...
That's the building he's blowing up.
Hey, listen up.
We got a potential target
from Rex Yu's GPS,
Haden.
Tell me it's an eight-story
building, please.
It is, the Wyatt,
duplexes and a penthouse.
Okay, okay, let's start
ticking off some boxes.
Anyone living at the Wyatt
have a connection directly
or indirectly with East- or China?
I'm looking for something
that speaks to motive.
Okay, yeah,
property records for most
of the units are clean.
This is interesting.
The penthouse was purchased
by a Hong Kong-based shell
corporation three years ago.
Okay, can we see who controls it?
Give me a second
to get through the layers.
Owner is Victor Ho.
Victor Ho, the Chinese businessman?
Or, depending on your perspective,
the dissident critic
of controlled economies.
Ho made a fortune in the mainland
and then basically defected to America.
Right. Hey, Alex, hey, Anne.
CIA, NSA have anything on Victor Ho?
Looking in our files, we've
got one active death thr*at
against Victor Ho indexed.
$ million contract from his
former protégé, Jintao Wong.
Hmm, bad blood amongst friends.
Apparently, Wong took it as a betrayal
when his mentor rebranded
as a public intellectual,
but we never thought the k*ll
job was all that doable.
Ho's a recluse in America.
He's security-paranoid.
Lives behind bulletproof glass.
He never goes outside.
Actually, that could explain
why they're using a b*mb
and not g*ns.
It's the only way to complete the hit.
But can we tie Rex Yu
to this jealous protégé of Ho?
Well, not all the way,
but we can get close.
You remember that crypto
account Rex controls?
Yeah.
He got a $ . million deposit
in there last week.
The payment for the contract,
half up front maybe.
Plus, the DEA file says
East- 's trafficking business
ties directly back to a handful
of Chinese oligarchs,
including Jintao Wong.
Ding-ding-ding. We have a winner.
All right, so we know Rex Yu walked
out of the auto shop holding the b*mb,
so let's assume he's looking
to plant it himself.
Yeah, and if he is, there's gonna be
a massive virtual audience
for the expl*si*n.
What do you mean?
According to Twitter,
Victor Ho livestreams
his dissident views from his penthouse
on the first of the month at : p.m.
Looks like it draws a huge following
among the pro-democracy
Chinese diaspora.
So that "huge score"
Cole Dixon stumbled upon
is gonna be an international incident.
All right, let's alert
Victor Ho's security team
we have a credible thr*at unfolding.
East- 's coming at them with a b*mb.
We need our agents and the
b*mb squad at the Wyatt now.
Yeah.
[TENSE MUSIC]
♪
Carla!
What's the situation on the ground?
b*mb squad's just starting
to clear the basement.
Okay, Tiff and I will give
them an extra set of eyes.
Okay, we'll take the lobby.
Hey, Gwen, hold up.
Rex Yu's possibly in there,
so I need you to watch the perimeter.
What the hell are you talking about?
Just watch out for Rex.
- Maggie, the b*mb's in there.
- I know.
Look, I know what's going on with you.
I know that you're sick.
Okay, I don't...
No, no, the pain,
the stumbles, the nausea.
It's all a byproduct of the
medication that you're taking.
You're out of line.
I saw the med-pen.
Stand down.
♪
How are we looking in the basement?
We're looking, Maggie, but nothing yet.
Have you located the pillars
that Rex marked on the blueprints?
Yeah, but if he planted
a b*mb down here,
it has to be in one
of these storage lockers.
We've still got a half dozen
of these things to pry open.
Copy.
No, he's not coming out.
Sir, we need this entire
building evacuated immediately.
This is not a suggestion.
We have a credible thr*at.
All due respect, agent,
this thing could be a ploy
to flush my boss into an easy k*ll sh*t.
Okay, we understand that,
but if there is a b*mb
in this building...
We'll take our chances.
Look, part of the reason
Victor Ho bought
into this building is because
of the structurally reinforced basement.
We're aware he's under constant thr*at.
And you just want
to ignore our intel then?
No, we're trusting
our analysis of the building.
Maggie, we're still not
finding a b*mb down here.
The dogs haven't alerted on anything.
I'm thinking maybe we got here
in time to keep Rex from planting it.
There's no b*mb?
Okay, Ho's going live in ten minutes,
and if his protégé wants
to make a statement...
something's not right.
♪
Hey, Maggie, what's up?
Look, the odds of East-
backing down are slim,
right, and nothing makes
a bigger statement
than k*lling Victor Ho
during one of his big speeches.
Yes, Maggie, but you heard it yourself,
the basement is clear.
Okay, but Ho's security guard is right.
Trying to crumple the building
leaves way too much to chance.
And you think that Rex came
to that same conclusion.
I mean, maybe.
Look, if they really wanted
to k*ll Victor Ho with a b*mb,
all they would have to do
is put him in the blast radius.
So either in the building or...
hold on a sec.
♪
Do we have eyes in the sky yet?
Point it yards east.
- Maggie!
- Yeah?
Rex is on the building next door.
♪
Rex Yu, FBI!
[g*nshots]
Go, go, go.
[TENSE MUSIC]
♪
Tiff, Scola, he's running down
the fire escape.
Okay, we're on it. Do you see the b*mb?
The b*mb's here. The b*mb is here.
- Maggie, stay on him.
- OA!
Stay on him!
- OA...
- Go!
See if you can cut him off
at the bottom.
We're almost there.
We need to set up a containment now.
♪
[PANTING]
- Carla.
- Yes, I'm on my way up.
No, no, no, there's no time.
We have T-minus one minute and counting.
I need you to talk me through
how to disarm this myself.
What are you looking at?
I have a timer, four wires
going to a circuit board,
and then three outgoing wires
into the charge.
About blocks of C- .
Any way to pull the blasting cap?
♪
Negative, it's buried.
Then focus on the output wires.
They are all white.
How do I know which one to cut?
The thicker the wire,
the more amperage it can carry.
Okay, I think it's the middle one.
♪
Are you sure?
No.
But there's no time.
I'm cutting it.
♪
[TIMER BEEPS]
[PANTING]
We're good. The b*mb is disarmed.
Maggie, where are you with Rex?
He got away. He's in the wind.
Copy that, I'm coming.
♪
Hey, any luck?
Hey, we are working on it, but no,
and every second we don't
find Rex increases
the odds that we won't.
Jubal, we got a potential
BOLO hit in Midtown.
Okay, that's what I like to hear. Where?
th and Walker.
b*at cop thought he saw a guy.
th and Walker?
Where the hell's he going?
Uh, let's try to confirm that, please.
What do you mean?
I mean, all the direct ways to
get out of the city from the Wyatt
are on the other side
of the island heading east.
Unless he's going for Embassy Row.
The consulate.
Enemy of my enemy.
No one hates Victor Ho
more than Beijing.
Confirming Rex is in Midtown!
I've got him on a traffic cam
at th and Walker
one minute ago, still headed west.
All right, alert the team Rex
is headed for diplomatic cover.
Copy that, we are approaching
the consulate now.
That's him. That's Rex.
♪
Rex!
Maggie, checking out
the northwest stairwell.
[BOTH GRUNTING]
♪
[g*n COCKS]
No.
[g*nsh*t]
♪
I don't do the perimeter.
Hey.
Thought I'd find you here.
Drink?
No, um...
I just wanted to come by and
say thank you, for saving my life.
The case is over. We got a good result.
Let's just leave it at that.
You know I can't do that.
You can't?
Or you won't?
[CLEARS THROAT]
My partner almost got k*lled today.
Look, Gwen...
- don't do this.
- Do what?
Don't make me the bad guy
because I know something is wrong.
[SIGHS]
We're friends. You can talk to me.
What's going on?
They diagnosed me
with multiple sclerosis.
That's what the medicine's for.
[CLEARS THROAT]
Doctors say it's treatable,
so I will live a basically normal life.
[APPREHENSIVE MUSIC]
But... [CHUCKLES]
[SIGHS]
Have you told any of your supervisors?
I've given years
of my life to this job, Maggie.
It's all I know how to do.
They'll pull me from the field.
I know.
But isn't that better than
putting other agents' lives at risk?
You know, one of the first
things you taught me
was that no one's bigger
than the bureau.
It doesn't matter how much
you love your job.
No one.
Never thought that would come
back to bite me on the butt.
[CHUCKLES]
I was right.
I trained you well.
You're the best.
Will you have a drink with me now?
- Yes.
- Okay.
♪
[DRAMATIC MUSIC]
♪
[WOLF HOWLS]